


all you could have been (and who you are)

by bettycoopergal



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty is adorable, Demi!Betty, F/M, Jughead is Jughead, Pining!Betty, Supportive!Veronica, Veronica is a great friend, and trying to figure herself out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 17:57:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15148682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettycoopergal/pseuds/bettycoopergal
Summary: A botched date, a late night phone call, and a realizationorBetty Cooper loves Jughead Jones—and only Jughead Jones.A 2-part exploration of an adorably misguided demi!Betty with a fluffy ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different kind of work for me, but I’ve quite enjoyed writing it so far. It’s been a while since I’ve had inspiration. 
> 
> Anyway, this story is pretty near and dear to me even if it’s going to be short and sweet. I’m writing it as honestly as I know how. Thanks for reading <3

“Betty! Thank god you finally called. I’ve been waiting all night for this, so you better spill. How was it?”

Betty knows Veronica is asking her a question, but right now all she hears is static. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out, and all she can think is _don’t cry, don’t cry_. Betty’s considering just cutting her losses and hanging up on Veronica when she accidentally lets out a soft sniffle—the residual evidence of the five minute sob session she had just before picking up the phone.

She freezes. _Maybe she won’t notice_ , Betty thinks.

But Veronica, to her credit and Betty’s dismay, is nothing if not finely attuned to her best friend’s moods.

“Are you okay, B?” she asks in what Betty can only assume is an intentionally soft voice.

She tries to say something that will appease Veronica—a white lie about some spicy chili she gulped down just before calling—but instead all that comes out of Betty’s mouth is a strangled sob followed by a fresh round of tears.

If she weren’t so worked up, she would find amusement in the way that Veronica immediately dives into mama bear mode, chanting platitudes over the phone without a single clue as to what Betty needs comfort for. She can almost see her repositioning herself on the silk sheets of her bed to sit up like a queen on her throne ready to dole out the death sentence to the fool who had the audacity to hurt her best friend. The image soothes Betty just enough to slow her tears, giving her a chance to catch her breath.

After a moment of silence during which Betty collects herself as best she can, Veronica pipes up tentatively. “What happened, B?” she asks.

Betty swallows. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” she says by way of preemptive explanation.

“I could never be disappointed in you, Betty! Don’t you know that?” Veronica says, clearly trying to mask her offense at the suggestion so that Betty will still feel comfortable enough to talk.

A flash of guilt stabs at Betty’s gut. “Yeah V, of course I know that,” she says quietly. “Sorry, it’s just—maybe I’m the one who’s a little disappointed in myself.”

Veronica sighs but doesn’t say anything else, apparently waiting for Betty to continue.

“You went out of your way to set me up with Trev, which was so sweet of you, really—,” she starts.

“Betty, honey, it was nothing and you know it. Now quit beating around the bush and come out with it so I can address whatever idiocy has caused my best friend to cry tonight,” Veronica says quickly, as if she’s sharpening a pitch fork with Trev’s name on it and is just waiting for Betty to give the all-clear for his execution.

“Okay, okay,” she responds, half smiling at Veronica’s protectiveness. “Well, Trev was really... wonderful, actually. He was so kind, and he seemed really interested in everything I had to say. He did all of the right things.”

“But...?” Veronica guesses.

“But...” Betty confirms. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Betty, it’s completely okay if you weren’t vibing with Trev. You’re allowed to not feel something,” Veronica interrupts as if it’s simple.

 _Oh, were it truly that simple_ , Betty thinks.

“No, Veronica, you don’t understand,” she says, feeling the tears begin to well up in her eyes again. “I didn’t find Trev attractive... in that way.”

She can almost hear Veronica’s scoff through the phone. “Well, what’s wrong with that?” she says. “You could have just said he wasn’t your type and we could have avoided all this heartache!”

 _Oh, were it truly that simple_ , Betty thinks again.

“No, I... what I’m trying to say is...” she huffs. She’s never had to tell anyone this before, and now that she’s doing it, she realizes she doesn’t have an eloquent way of saying it. “I’m not attracted to Trev because I don’t have a connection with him,” she says finally.

Betty assumes Veronica’s silence is a result of confusion, so she presses on. “Everything on the date tonight just felt so wrong—like I was pretending. When Trev reached out to hold my hand, I had to force myself not to recoil. It all felt... foreign, somehow. Like I was faking something intimate with a total stranger, even though I’ve known Trev for a long time and holding hands really isn’t anything serious.”

She pauses to let her friend digest everything she’s said. “So...” Veronica starts slowly. “What does that mean?”

Betty exhales. “It means that tonight confirmed something that I’ve been trying to deny about myself for a long time. I... I’m not normal, V. I don’t think I can bring myself to be with anybody romantically unless... well, never mind. I just think the universe wants me to be alone.”

“Don’t even go there, Betty Cooper,” Veronica says immediately. “I’m not having any of that. Now, we’re going to sit here and figure this out.”

Betty sighs. She’s already spent 16 years trying to “figure this out.” She doesn’t know what Veronica thinks is going to happen in the next few minutes before Betty’s mom inevitably cuts the phone line for things to suddenly change.

“So, are you saying that you aren’t, like, romantically attracted to anyone?” Veronica asks.

“No!” Betty says too quickly. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she realizes her mistake and squeezes her eyes shut.

“O-ho, so there is somebody?” Veronica all but squeals. “Has this been your weird roundabout way of telling me you didn’t like Trev because you like somebody else?”

“No,” Betty snaps. She takes a calming breath. “Well... yes and no. All of those things I said are true. I’m... strange, I know. But the only reason I’ve come to understand any of that about myself is that there’s only one person I’ve ever really wanted or even thought of in a romantic way—someone I knew for a long time before I realized how I felt. And now... I know it can’t happen. Because no one else is like me, you know? Usually if people are friends for a long time it means that they’re not interested in each other romantically—because if they were, then why didn’t they date each other? With the way I am, it makes sense: I only started liking this person romantically after years of deepening our platonic connection. But I don’t know anybody else who develops feelings like that, so I’m just stuck.”

Betty feels a strange sense of relief as she finishes unloading the struggle she’s been silently dealing with for years. At least it’s out in the open now, she thinks. Maybe now Veronica will stop pestering me with blind date proposals.

But Veronica, it seems, has no intention of letting anything go. “Oh no you don’t,” she demands. She’s using the stern tone she adopts sometimes when she thinks Betty is selling herself short. “Plenty of people harbor secret crushes on their friends for years—it’s the tropiest of tropes for god’s sake. So tell me who this person is and then I can really set you up on the perfect date!”

Betty is already mortified. She’s gone this long without revealing her feelings to her crush who she’s kind of sort of in love with, and she isn’t going to let Veronica ruin that kind of history now.

Nevertheless, if she’s being honest, Betty does want to come clean. It’s been a lonely burden to bear for all these years, and—after all—Veronica has earned the truth tonight.

“Listen, V. I’m going to tell you who it is because I love you and I trust you and you’re my best friend. But please, promise me that you won’t meddle? I really, really don’t want that. Could you promise?” Betty pleads.

Veronica pauses as if weighing her options, but eventually she lets out a small huff of defeat. “Of course, B. Anything you want.”

Betty smiles.

She takes a deep breath, preparing herself to finally tell someone her deepest secret.

“Jughead Jones,” they say at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Betty sits alone at Pop’s on a hot and sticky Saturday morning thinking about last night’s terrible date and subsequent confession to Veronica about her romantic history. She cringes, remembering her best friend’s on-the-nose guess as to who Betty’s been harboring a crush on for years of her life.

_“Jughead Jones,” they said at the same time._

_“What?” Betty asked sharply, a little panicked. “How did you know that?”_

_Veronica let out a soft chuckle. “You, my friend, are not as much of a closed book as you think you are,” she said. “I’ve been wondering for a long time, to be perfectly honest. The way you look at that boy… But I figured you would have told me if you had some kind of secret feelings for him. I mean, I am your best friend…” she trailed off, and Betty immediately felt another stab of guilt._

_“I’m really sorry, V,” she said honestly. “I just didn’t want anyone to know, because I knew nothing could come of it. I especially didn’t want him to find out. Then I’d lose him as a friend, too.”_

_The line went quiet for a few seconds, and Betty was worried that Veronica was upset with her reasoning. But then she spoke up, in a voice that she frankly had never heard her best friend use before. “Listen to me,” she said carefully. “I promised you that I won’t meddle, so of course I’m going to stay out of this, but I just want to give you one piece of advice: tell him.”_

_Betty exhaled noisily._

_“No, B, I’m serious,” Veronica pressed. “Tell him. Forget the fact that I am 100% positive that boy is head over heels for you and just focus on the fact that he’s one of your oldest friends. Doesn’t he deserve to know? Can’t you trust him enough to believe that even if he doesn’t return your feelings, your friendship will survive?”_

_Betty knew that Veronica was right. Of course she was right, but that didn’t make the truth any easier to swallow—nor did it make the task of facing Jughead any less daunting. But she knew that her friend was coming from a good place and that she just wanted the best for her. “I’ll think about it, V,” she leveled, not sure if it was the truth or not._

_“Good,” Veronica said simply._

Now, as the waitress delivers her order—two eggs over easy and a bit of toast to get some food in her stomach and calm her nerves—Betty thinks about the prospect of telling Jughead she loves him. _Could I really do it?_ she wonders, poking the center of an egg with her fork. _Could I be brave?_ She’s so absorbed in the sickening yellow swirl of yolk on her plate and the horrifying promise of rejection that she doesn’t notice the bell above the diner door ring to announce a new customer. She’s so lost in her thoughts about Jughead, in fact, that she doesn’t realize he’s present until he’s taken a seat across from her with an unceremonious plop of his laptop bag.

Suddenly, Betty’s mouth is completely dry. She hasn’t taken a bite of her breakfast yet, and now, appetite lost, she thinks she may have to absorb the two dollars and fifty cents she paid for it. “Jug,” she says in what she hopes is a pleasantly surprised tone.

“Hey Betts,” he replies, glancing at her hand, which is currently swirling her fork in the uneaten gooey mess of eggs on the plate in front of her. Betty feels her face heat up, and for good measure she sets down her fork and pulls her hand back into her lap. “What’s up? You okay?” he asks.

Betty fights the urge to smile at his concern. He can be so soft sometimes, when he’s like this—concerned for the people he cares about. Betty almost rolls her eyes at the flutter in her stomach that crops up in response to the reminder that _he cares about her_. “Yep,” she says to his question. “Just tired is all.”

Jughead levels her with the same look he always does when he knows she’s putting up a wall. “Thought we were past the ‘I’m tired’ excuses, Betts,” he chides. 

Now, she does smile—a soft lift of the corner of her mouth that’s just for him. “Sorry Juggie,” she says. “Force of habit, I guess.”

Jughead smiles then, too. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

 _Should I tell him?_ Betty thinks, feeling the beginning stages of panic. _I don’t think I can._ But then, he’s sitting in front of her, asking her what’s wrong, and she doesn’t know if she has the energy to lie to him either.

“I went on a date with Trev last night,” she says eventually, settling for a half-truth. She sees a troubled expression cross Jughead’s face, but she can’t quite make out what it means.

“Oh…” he says, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

“It was horrible,” Betty blurts out, already wanting to backtrack on whatever has made him stiffen like this. She can tell he’s fighting a smile at her outburst as his posture finally relaxes.

“Yikes,” Jughead says, motioning at the waitress to order himself a stack of pancakes.

“Well, okay, it wasn’t _horrible_ ,” she laughs, finally picking her fork back up and taking a bite of her eggs. “Trev is really very sweet.”

Jughead reaches over and grabs a piece of Betty’s toast. He makes a motion with his hand before taking a bite to signal that he’ll give her his piece when his order comes. She rolls her eyes fondly. “If he’s so _sweet_ ,” he says through his chewing, “then why the terrible date?”

Betty feels the color drain from her face. The hand clutching her fork stills of its own accord. _He isn’t you_ , she wants to say. _I’ve never had this connection with anyone else. I think I love you. I think I’m_ in _love with you._

“I’m just… not attracted to him in that way I guess,” she says instead. She can feel Jughead’s stare on her, but she can’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“Then why did you agree to a date with him in the first place?”

Betty tries not to take offense to the slightly accusatory note of his tone, shaking her head in response. “I don’t know,” she says. She finally looks up at Jughead only to glance back downward when she sees the disapproving look on his face in response to her answer. “I guess…” she tries. “I guess I was trying to pretend to be someone I’m not—trying to forge a connection with someone that I already have… with someone else.”

From her vantage point, Betty can see Jughead’s fingers twitch where they rest on the table. She doesn’t dare look at his face, or even move at all. She’s sure he can hear her heart beating in her chest at an alarmingly rapid rate. 

“I get that,” he says, startling her.

She looks up at him then. His eyes are so open, his expression more vulnerable than she can ever remember it being. “You do?” she nearly whispers. 

Jughead visibly swallows. “Betts…” he starts.

But suddenly, Betty doesn’t want to know what he has to say. She can feel the conversation heading into uncharted territory, and she realizes that she is terrified of being rejected by him. Jughead makes her feel so safe and valued—always—, and she’s worried that she’ll lose that relationship with him forever. So she abruptly tries to stand, accidentally knocking the table with her knee, flipping her fork from the edge of her plate to the ground. “I just remembered that I have to get home,” she says as she shimmies out of the booth awkwardly from her half-standing-half-sitting position.

“Betty, wait,” Jughead protests, clearly alarmed. He climbs out of the booth in time to grab her wrist before she can dart out through the diner door. She blinks once, gaze transfixed on his hand. “Betty,” he says again. She looks up slowly, her heart skipping a beat when she meets his piercing stare.

They stand there in silence, Betty’s body heating up under Jughead’s touch and his mouth open as if waiting for something to come out.

But in the end, nothing does.

When the waitress interrupts their moment to deliver Jughead’s pancakes, Betty lightly pulls her hand out of his grasp and walks toward the door. As she hears the bell ding to signal her exit, she uses all her energy to fight back the tears that have been threatening to fall since the beginning of this conversation. _This is worse than rejection_ , she thinks. _He pities me so much that he can’t even find the words to turn me down._ She wipes one away, willing the others not to follow suit.

Just as she’s starting to pull herself together, reaching out to open the door of her car that’s sitting in the Pop’s parking lot, Betty hears hurried footsteps behind her. She turns around just in time to see Jughead frantically running toward her.

“What—?” she starts, but her question is cut off when he surges forward and kisses her. For a minute, everything goes blank. She can focus on nothing but the gentle touch of his hands in her hair and the warmth of his lips against hers. But then, she smiles into his mouth, reaching her arms up to wrap around his neck. Her heart has never felt so satisfied before—like this moment, this connection, is the only thing that could have ever filled her up so completely.

It isn’t until Jughead pulls back and rests his forehead against hers that Betty realizes she’s crying. From where his hand is resting beneath her ear, he reaches out his thumb and wipes away a tear. “Betty Cooper,” he says quietly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

All she can do is laugh—at the completeness of her joy, at the absurdity of the situation, at the reverent way the boy of her dreams just whispered her name. “Actually, I do,” she says.

Jughead puts some space between them so that he can look at her properly. When he sees the humorous glint in her eye, he grins. “We’re the stupidest people on the planet, aren’t we?”

Betty giggles, pulling him into a hug like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but the tenderness with which he responds and wraps his arms around her suddenly makes her want to cry again. He’s holding her like she’s everything—like she’s always been a part of him and now he gets to have her.

“I love you,” she whispers into his ear, suddenly feeling braver than she’s ever felt in her life.

She can feel Jughead smile against her hair. “Betts,” he murmurs with what Betty can only assume is a tone of disbelief, “you have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this small bit of fluff. Thank you for indulging me :)


End file.
